


Stuck With You

by destieldrabblesdaily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destieldrabblesdaily/pseuds/destieldrabblesdaily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Dean Winchester could pick one person that he'd never want to get stuck in an elevator with, it would be Castiel Novak. Except maybe, just maybe, it's not as bad as Dean would've imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck With You

“Jeez, personal space, Novak!” Dean Winchester barked irritably when the man who was sitting on the opposite end of the tiny elevator stretched his legs and accidentally nudged Dean’s foot in the process.

Castiel, because that was the asshole’s first name, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well here’s news for you, Dean! I don’t think we can afford ourselves the luxury of personal space when being stuck in an elevator _this small_.”

Dean groaned, silently cursing everything and everyone because he had to be stuck here with Castiel Novak of all people.

They’d both been working late, and they’d been the last two people to leave the office building. Or at least tried to, seeing as they were still very much _here_. When the nice lady on the other end of the intercom had told them that they were sending help as soon as possible, but that it was probably going to take a while because this happened outside of working hours, Dean knew that he was doomed.

Now if Dean was going to be honest with himself, he had to admit that Castiel had never actually done anything to offend him on purpose. Still, he had his own reasons as to why this guy was on top of his ‘ _colleagues I would rather not be stuck in an elevator with’_ list.

One of the aforementioned reasons was the fact that Castiel was _infuriatingly gorgeous_ , and it pissed Dean off. It pissed him off when Cas nonchalantly flirted with Meg from accountancy, using the kind of smile that made Dean’s stomach do somersaults, even though it wasn’t directed at him. It pissed him off when during lunch break, Castiel enjoyed his food a little bit too much and softly moaned around a bite, tongue poking out afterwards to lick those pretty pink lips. It pissed him off when they both happened to be at the coffee machine at the same time, and those blue eyes stared intently at him, making Dean think things along the lines of ‘ _goodbye heterosexuality, it was nice knowing you’_.

Currently, Castiel had loosened the deep blue tie that perfectly matched his eyes, and he’d undone the first button of his white shirt. Dean stared longingly at the newly exposed skin. God, how he would like to… He mentally reprimanded himself before he could finish that thought.

“Look Dean… I’m aware that you really don’t like me, but since we’re stuck here, maybe we should call a truce.” Castiel’s voice made Dean return to the here and now, and he noticed how the other man was holding out a hand as a peace offering.

“I never said I didn’t like you.” Dean grumbled, but he briefly shook Cas’s hand anyway.

“I know. You didn’t have to say it, your behaviour towards me is making it pretty clear.”

Dean had no good response to that. Castiel was one hundred percent right. It was downright unfair for Dean to take his frustration out on his co-worker for no reason.

“Look man… I’m sorry if I ever gave you that idea. Maybe this is a good time to… to start over?” Dean suggested, inwardly cursing himself for being so weak.

It were those eyes. Those goddamn blue eyes. The same eyes that brightened visibly when Castiel smiled at Dean’s offer.

“I would like that, Dean.” He said, the smile never wavering, wide and sincere.

Dean ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Okay, but you really have to… stop with _the eyes_.” He blabbed out, once again cringing because he had no idea where those words had come from. If he hadn’t known better, he’d say that they were running out of oxygen or something, because his brain already seemed to be shutting down.

Castiel tilted his head in that adorable way he did when he was confused, making it even worse.

“Stop _what_ with the eyes, Dean?” He asked.

“They’re just so…” Dean started, then paused again.

"So?” Castiel encouraged him to finish his sentence.

“They’re just so goddamn blue, alright!” Dean suddenly exclaimed, the noise too loud in the small space.

There was a frown forming on Cas’ forehead. “The color of my eyes offends you?” He questioned disbelievingly.

He was looking so innocent, releasing the full force of those puppy eyes on Dean while seeming truly and utterly puzzled. _The hell with this_ , a tiny voice in the back of Dean’s mind declared. He was dealing with over a year of pent up frustration, and it was about time he got it out of his system.

“Yes! Your eyes are offending me, Cas! And you know what else? Your smile offends me! And your lips! They offend me even more! And most of all, that messy hair of yours offends me! You might as well just hang a freaking neon sign over your head that says ‘ _please touch it, you know you want to_ ’! Everything about you screams ‘ _please bend me over the nearest desk and have your way with me_ ’ and I can’t work like that, dammit!”

As soon as the words were out, Dean clasped his hand over his mouth, shocked by his own admission. A deafening silence followed, during which the two men held one of their longest staring contests yet.

“You… you _like_ me.” Castiel broke the silence, pointing a finger at Dean to empower his accusation.

Dean knew that denying was pointless now, and so he settled for more silence as his eyes stayed locked with Castiel’s.

“Why didn’t you just say so, Dean?”

Dean shrugged, not sure what to say. Or actually, on second thought, he _did_ know what to say.

“I just didn’t think you’d ever be interested in me, okay. You always flirt with that chick from accountancy, and you sometimes give me these glares when we cross paths and I just…”

Out of the blue, Castiel started laughing. Dean shot him an angry scowl.

“Hey, I’m baring my soul here! What’s so funny, Cas?” He snapped.

When the blue-eyed bastard stopped chuckling at last, he reached out and gently put a hand on Dean’s knee.

“Dean…” He said, sounding very serious all of the sudden. “I only ‘flirt’ with Meg whenever you are around, because I was trying to get your attention. I’m not even interested in her. And whenever I ‘glared’ at you, it was simply because I was getting frustrated about not getting through to you after dropping so many hints.”

Dean’s jaw might have dropped to the floor.

“You like me!” He mimicked Castiel’s earlier accusation, jabbing his finger in Cas’ direction.

Cas exasperatedly rolled his eyes. “Yes Dean, I like you. And perhaps I would like you even better if you stopped being angry at me and instead started _kissing_ me.”

Oh… Oh my. Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He crawled onto Castiel’s lap with the speed of light, his hands finally digging into that hair that he’d wanted to ruffle for so long. Cas’ hands were on him instantly as well, their lips meeting forcefully.

Neither of them noticed when the elevator started moving again. Or how the elevator technician muttered ‘oh dear’ when the doors finally opened, before quickly taking off.

**Author's Note:**

> For more, follow destieldrabblesdaily.tumblr.com


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